


Afterglow I thru III

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-08-31
Updated: 2001-08-31
Packaged: 2018-11-20 05:06:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11329179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Takes place after "Welcoming": later that same night. The guys begin to explore their new relationship.





	Afterglow I thru III

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Afterglow by Alison

Afterglow by Alison  
Feedback to:   
Category: Langly/Byers slash  
Disclaimer: They're not mine etc  
Archive: Unusual Suspects, Basement, Ephemeral, Gossamer, anyone else just ask  
Spoilers: Nope  
Summary: Takes place after "Welcoming": later that same night. The guys begin to explore their new relationship.

* * *

For the second time that night, John was woken by a movement beside him. The too unfamiliar feeling of *someone* in the bed with him, breathing soft beside him, shifting position against him. He reached out and switched the bedside light on, looking at the clock. Still only 2 AM .. he turned his head on the pillow and found himself looking straight into Langly's eyes.

Langly was lying on his stomach, next to him, his head on his folded arms, looking at him warily through the curtain of his tangled hair. The dim diffuse light sculptured every line, every curve and contour and hollow of his naked body, turning his pale skin to the colour of old ivory and his hair to pure gold. He looked apprehensive, hesitant; looked as if he wanted to speak but could not. His tongue came out to moisten his lips. His expression was still totally unreadable.

//It happened . . . it really did and we're here . . . Well, he's in *my* bed so I suppose it's up to me to say something . . .//

John's mouth was suddenly dry and his usual eloquence had suddenly deserted him. They stared at each other in silence for a long moment.

"Um . . . you okay?" "You all right?"

They had spoken almost together, and stopped at the same instant, embarrassment and self consciousness striking them dumb. Langly looked away, flushing. "Uh . . maybe I should go . . ." He started to push himself up.

"No! No, Langly . . . it's okay. Uh . . . don't go."

"But . . .? I mean, what happened . . . you don't mind . ."

"Mind? Langly, I've been trying to make you notice me for weeks now!"

Langly looked at him with an expression of utter surprise. "But I thought -"

"You thought I wasn't *like* that?"

Langly nodded.

"Well I gotta admit, I don't think I've had the experience you have, but there were a few times when I was younger . . . um . . .and then I realised how you felt . . ."

Langly's face lit up with something more like the old cynical grin. "You're gonna have to tell me about it." He shifted closer. "So - you're not pissed off with me?"

"What?? Langly, no . . ." John reached for him, pushing the hair out of his eyes and ruunning the backs of his fingers down Langly's cheek. "No way." Words seemed superflous and impossible anyway when Langly leaned forward and kissed him again. A different kiss this time, intense, slow, gentle.

"Wow" was all he could manage when Langly let him go. Langly put his head down on on his folded arms again, looking at him sideways. "So . . . why now?"

"Well . . ." John felt the betraying blush start and ducked his head. Langly pulled his head round and looked at him, grinning.

"Hey, you're blushing! Do you know how hot you look when you blush?"

"I -"

"And do ya know how it's always turned me on - " another long, slow kiss as Langly demonstrated just how much it turned him on. But when they broke apart again it was Langly who was trembling.

"Oh god . . . John, I've wanted to do this for so long -"

"Shh, it's okay."

Langly put his head down again, blinking, and John stroked his back. "How long?"

"You don't wanna know" and Langly looked away again, and John noted with delight how Langly's ears went bright pink when *he* blushed.

John cleared his throat.

"Langly -"

"Yeah?"

"I *am* kinda out of practice, you know -?"

And then Langly's mouth was back where it belonged, and it was as if John's whole life had been leading up to this moment of complete focus, complete concentration, complete sensation. He was moaning softly into Langly's mouth, and his heart was hammering in his ears, and Langly's hands were radiating incredible heat on his shoulders, sliding down his back, pulling them even closer together.

Langly pulled away from his mouth and moved down, rasping his cheek against John's beard, then licking and kissing gently along the sensitive skin just below his jawline. Breathing out against John's skin, hot and moist against his throat. John trembled violently at the incredible sensations, catching his breath in deeply and trying to maintain control.

Langly looked up at him with a mischievous knowing grin. "Been a long time, huh?"

He moved down till his mouth was on John's nipple, suckling and exploring with his tongue until John writhed. Looking down he could see the top of Langly's head, the blond hair everywhere, and feel the incredible sensation of Langly's mouth on him. He reached down, running his hands over the firm muscles of the shoulders, feeling the strength of them, greedily gripping them tightly as if he wanted to force their bodies to meld together. "Relax", Langly whispered against his chest, nipping and kissing his way across John's skin, pulling at the hair on his abdomen with little nibbles of his lips, making every nerve end tingle with desire.

John was dissolving, losing the ability to think coherently, or even to think at all; his body had taken over, so long denied, and was demanding release. His hips arched up instinctively against Langly's body, and Langly laughed softly under his breath and shifted, sliding across to push one leg between John's and rubbing his thigh against John's penis, already throbbing and aching with need. Langly looked sharply up at John at the feel of it, and stroked one hand down John's abdomen, combing his fingers through the hair on the way down till he reached the root of his penis, already swollen and throbbing, then curling his fingers round and cupping the length in his palm and caressing the head with his thumb, spreading the moistness leaking from the tip in a stroking motion over the head that made John thrust up into his hand, shutting his eyes mindlessly.

"Beautiful", Langly whispered. "Wow, just gotta have this . . ."

The first touch of Langly's tongue on the tip of John's cock made the breath catch in his throat, but then Langly began to lick him, long slow leisurely strokes of his tongue from the root to the head, stopping tantalisingly for a split second each time he reached the head to give a tiny flick to the sensitive tip before starting again. John was incoherent now, barely able to breathe, vivid purple and yellow blotches exploding behind his eyelids and a roaring filled his ears. Next moment he screeched as Langly took his whole cock in his mouth, surrounding it in mind-blowing heat and wetness.

He thrust up hard, unable to stop himself, pushing deep into Langly's mouth, feeling his cock slide to the back of Langly's throat, then with a practised movement Langly swallowed and he was engulfed totally, up to the hilt in heat and pressure. One, two, three thrusts was all it took and the white heat rushed through his veins, brilliant white light exploding in his head as he came, thrusting, coming hard into Langly's mouth, jerking up into the warm wonderful wetness with instinctive, mindless jabs of his hips. Langly stayed with him, swallowing it all down until he had no more to give and he lay there shuddering with the tremors of aftershock.

Langly rolled off him and John grunted in protest, clutching at him. "Langly -" and the younger man hitched himself up to lie beside him, smiling smugly and wiping his mouth. John reached for him, pulling him close and demanding another kiss, greedily slipping his tongue in to share the taste of himself in Langly's mouth. They kissed long and hard, wrapping their arms around each other and holding tight, hardly able to believe that the dream was now reality.

They broke off long enough to look at each other in the dim light.

"Incredible" Langly murmured, kissing him again just under the ear. "You taste incredible . . . feel incredible . . . you *smell* incredible."

John laughed softly. "And you've got talents I never suspected . . . Langly - I'm sorry."

Langly looked up, looking at him almost angrily. "Sorry? Why should *you* be sorry?"

"Because I should have seen . . . we've wasted so much time, Langly. So much time when we could have been together."

Langly nodded. "I know . . . but look at it this way. We've got a lot of time to make up."

John stroked his hand encouragingly up Langly's arm. "And a lot we still don't know about each other."

"Yeah . . ."

Langly leaned over him and switched out the light, then settled back down, wrapping his arms tight again about his friend, his lover.

"So John, for a start, tell me . . . what about all these other guys I don't know about?"

"Er . . . well . . .

"Any of them ever do *this* . . ."

END

 

* * *

 

Afterglow II: Deep in the Night by Alison  
Feedback to:   
Category: Langly/Byers slash  
Disclaimer: They're not mine etc  
Archive: Unusual Suspects, Basement, Ephemeral, Gossamer, anyone else just ask  
Spoilers: Nope  
Summary: Follows "Afterglow" later the same night as the boys discover a deeper intimacy.

* * *

Deep in the night, they lay close together in the dim light, talking in soft voices. Hands wandered over each others bodies, exploring, stroking. Exchanging kisses, caresses, confidences as they had never done before.

"Two years? Langly - I mean Ringo - you've felt like this for two years? Why didn't you tell me?"

John propped himself up on his elbow to look down at Langly lying beside him, his hair tangled round his head and spread across the pillow. Langly sighed. "I thought - well, there was always Susanne - and then I thought you'd probably freak out. I thought . . .. I couldn't tell you, man. I thought you'd take off and we'd never see you again." He looked away uncomfortably. "I couldn't face that."

"I wish I'd known, Ringo. Then maybe I would have stopped fantasising over something I couldn't have, and see what was right under my nose all the time."

"And Susanne -"

"After Vegas . . . . I started to realise that you were right, all those things you said. It was pointless, a waste of time. I wasted ten years of my life on a dream." He reached over and took Langly's hand. "It's over, Ringo. I want to move on."

Langly turned on his side to face him, reached out to touch his face. "John, the things I said . . . I never meant to hurt you. I just couldn't stand to be right here when I wanted you so much and you didn't seem to see. . ." A thought struck him. "Hey, by the way, how *did* you find out?"

"Er . . . ."

"C'mon, John, tell me."

"No, really . . ."

"Hey, c'mon . . ." and Langly moved with lightning speed to straddle his hips, holding his wrists against the pillow either side of his head. "You're gonna tell me, John." He bent his head towards John, grinning wickedly, his hair trailing down each side of his face and tickling across John's chest. John yeeped in surprise, wriggling frantically. "Ringo, let go . . . eeeeeeeaaaah . ."

"Hey, you're ticklish! *Are* you ticklish, John? Hoo boy, this is gonna be good . . ."

"Nononono, please, don't, Ringo, aaaaah . . ."

Langly let go of one hand but only to free his own hand to find exactly where John was most ticklish, going unerringly to the most sensitive places around his sides and skimming lightly, teasingly over the skin. John yelled, writhing helplessly.

Langly began to laugh too as John dissolved in helpless giggles under his torturing hands, all his struggles ineffectual. Langly eventually relented, pausing to look down triumphantly at John shaking with spasms of laughter. He caught his breath, staring down, his eyes going dark with desire. "God, John, you are so amazing . . . so hot . . ." and his mouth latched on to John's again.

When they finally broke for air Langly was pressing hard against him again, his erection grinding into John's hip. And Langly's hand . . . Langly's hand was moving down, stroking his cock briefly before moving on, cupping his balls teasingly then his fingers exploring further. Lost in a haze of erotic stimulation, John was jerked back to awareness at an almost forgotten stab at sensitive nerve endings and he cried out in surprise, shuddering uncontrollably.

Langly stopped, breathing hard in his ear. "You okay?"

He nodded with a confidence he didn't really feel. "Yeah, sure. Take it easy, though? S'been a while . . ."

"If you're sure -"

"I'm sure, c'mon, I'll be okay . ."

They lay facing each other, while Langly seemed to be making up his mind. Then he leaned forward and kissed John gently on the lips. "Right. Don't go away."

He slid out of bed and padded away in the direction of the bathroom. John waited, apprehension and excitement warring for dominance in his mind.

Langly was back in a few seconds carrying a large bath towel and a bottle of lube. He settled back down beside John and spread the towel on the bed between them. "Okay, shift over a bit" and John complied, settling down on the towel. He watched with interest and some apprehension as Langly uncapped the lube and squirted some onto his fingers. Langly met his eyes and grinned. "Don't worry, John . . we'll use so much of this stuff, you won't feel a thing."

He squirted some onto his fingers and then reached for John's hand, doing the same for him. He smiled at John's surprised look. "C'mon John, you gotta do some of the work."

He pushed John back down on the bed to lie on his back, and then lay down beside him on his side. He was already half erect, and he took John's hand in his own and guided it to his cock. Wrapping John's fingers around his cock, he quickly swelled and hardened fully as he encouraged John to stroke and caress him. Remembering how many times in the past he had fantasised about this moment, John's hands on him in just this way, he looked up to see his friend's face flushed with his own arousal, obviously every bit as excited as Langly was himself, and very competently and expertly using those long fingers to caress Langly's cock and bring him to full arousal. John met his eyes and gave him a knowing look, and Langly realised he had probably been underestimating his friend quite considerably. John most definitely knew what he was doing, and Langly found himself wondering just *what* the older man's experiences had been.

Langly reached to do the same for John but found it was hardly necessary; the older man's cock was so hard that he yelped and flinched when Langly brushed it lightly with the backs of his fingers. Langly bent and kissed the tip, and John hissed, his body arching slightly. Langly pulled himself up and stroked John' face, forcing him to look at him. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah . . . come on."

Langly looked at him carefully. "Okay then. Now, what's the best way to do this . . . c'mon, I want you to lie on your side. That's right." John obediently shifted on to his left side, facing away from Langly.

"Now, put your leg up." He gently pushed John' right leg forward to give him better access. Taking some more lube on his fingers he ran them gently down the crease of John' ass, aronnd the sensitive entrance and further down to cradle the sac. John moaned softly, his body rippling like a cat being stroked. Langly continued to stroke, tickle and gently massage his balls, leaning over to watch the older man's face all the time.

John felt as if he was floating on a sea of pleasure, drowning it it, warm and soft. He could have stayed like that forever, giving himself up to the sensations Langly's hands were giving him. He was hardly aware of Langly's finger slipping inside him for the first time till it brushed against the sensitive spot deep inside him and the electric jolt flashed through his whole body. His eyes snapped open and he tensed around Langly's finger. Langly bent over him, kissing his shoulder. "Easy John, easy . . . gonna take it real slow . . ."

He tried to relax, fighting the old familiar habit of his muscles to tense and expel this intrusion. Tried to tell himself this was Ringo, he wanted this . . . it would be different. Langly contined to probe him gently and the tension began to melt away, replaced by a pleasurable, tingling, increasingly warm, wonderful sensation. He could feel Langly's long finger deep inside him, stroking, probing deeper now and again and sending pulses of electric pleasure through him before ebbing away again. Even the stretching feeling as Langly pushed two fingers inside him now, was exciting with its promise of more, more to come. Instinctively he pushed back against Langly's fingers, for the first time wanting more.

Langly pushed in deeper, his fingers pressing hard against the prostate and John shuddered in genuine pleasure. "Oh, yes -"

Langly pulled his fingers out and slid down carefully behind John, pressing their bodies close and letting his erect penis brush against John' opening. His hand slid over John' hip to caress his belly, massaging the tension out of the taut muscles until his friend's breathing deepened and slowed. His hand moved down to caress the cock and stroke it back into hardness. John moaned softly, biting his lip, and buried his face in the pillow.

Langly shifted into position and pushed his cock, slick with lube and pre-come, inside the older man, slowly, slowly easing forward, careful not to penetrate too deeply on this first occasion.

He stopped moving, holding absolutely still while John adjusted to the feel of another man's cock, solid and huge inside him. They lay still, savouring the experience of being totally joined for the first time. John's eyes were closed, his mouth open as he panted rapidly with tension and increasing arousal. His hand wandered, clutching at the sheets convusively. Langly continued to whisper endearments in his ear, to kiss the back of his neck and his shoulders while his hand returned to John' cock, erect and straining now as the sensations pushed him towards the peak.

Langly bit his lip in an effort to control his own movements, desperately anxious not to hurt John or push him too far too soon. This, their first time, it was vitally important not to hurt the other man however much he wanted to give in to his own impulse to take him hard.

Langly slid his arm round John' chest, pulling their bodies closer. He had to use all his control now, to pull out almost entirely. John groaned in disappoinment, but in the next instant his eyes went wide with astonishment as Langly slid back in, filling him again, hard inside him. Again Langly slid out, in again, building up a slow smooth pistoning movement. John was grabbing at the sheets, giving in to it, grunting in rhythm with Langly's thrusts. It had never been like this before . . . Suddenly Langly changed position slightly, his thrusts became deeper, and John cried out with ecstasy as Langly's cock hit the pleasure centre deep inside him. "Oh! Oh my god, Ringo!"

Langly felt the pleasure rush through him as well, as much as if he was the one being fucked. It was incredibly arousing to know that he was giving so much pleasure to John at last. He bent to kiss John' throat. "That's it, huh? That's the spot? Okay, just you wait, baby."

He pulled out again and thrust back in to hit the same spot and John shrieked hoarsely. his cry echoing round the room. "Aaaaaah - Ringo - "

Langly felt his own orgasm building, intensified by the way he was driving John wild; and tried to hold back to send John over the edge first. One last thrust and John's whole body spasmed as his orgasm took him and he came, spurting again and again into Langly's hand and over the sheets and his own body. A final agonized moan and he went limp, subsiding semi-conscious in Langly's arms.

Langly pulled quickly out of him and finished himself off with a few practised strokes of his hand on his own cock, still concerned not to injure John in this first experience after so long. He buried his lips in his lover's hair as he came, savouring the feel and the smell of John in his arms as he had wanted him for so long.

Panting and breathless, he pulled John into his arms in the aftermath of his orgasm, looking down at the face of his friend as he had never seen him before. Flushed, sticky, sweaty and rumpled, his hair tangled and falling over his forehead, he looked incredibly hot. "Totally fucked over." Langly whispered.

John opened his eyes and looked at him sleepily, reaching out and winding a lock of Langly's hair round his finger, gently running it down the length. Langly caught his eye with a little smile. "Gonna ask me to cut it?" remembering how his friends had always teased him about it.

"No, don't .. I like it." He touched it again. "I love it - it's beautiful. So soft." He paused. "What about the beard?"

"Would you shave it off if I asked you?"

"Yes." Instantly, no question.

Langly stroked his fingers down Byers' face. "No - I love the way it feels. It feels fantastic."

And he leaned forward and nuzzled against Byers' cheek, rubbing against the beard. "Don't change a thing, okay? Don't ever change. I need you . . . I need you to always be the same."

"I'll always be here for you Ringo. Always."

END

 

* * *

 

Afterglow III: Light of Day by Alison  
Feedback to:   
Category: Langly/Byers slash  
Disclaimer: They're not mine etc  
Archive: Unusual Suspects, Basement, Ephemeral, Gossamer, anyone else just ask  
Spoilers: Nope  
Summary: After their first night, the boys wake up together for the first time.

* * *

7 am: BYERS

It's never like this in the movies.

All the movies I've ever seen, all the videos where two people go to bed together for the first time and wake up together in the morning, it's never quite like this. It's always glamorous and clean and perfect. The reality is somewhat different.

The reality is the way your partner is taking up nearly all the bed and you're cold all down one side because he's pulled the blanket nearly off you . . . and on your other side you're numb all down your arm because he's lying on top of you and drooling on your shoulder. They never talk about that, and the stickiness, the damp patches and the stains on the sheets. The way he's heavy against you so you can't move, even if you need to get up and take a leak.

And they never mention the fact that you're probably so exhausted you couldn't move even if you wanted to. Stiff and sore too, yes, more some places than others, but you can also still feel him inside you, still, hours later . .

But I don't want to move anyway, even if I needed to. I just want to lie here with him and try to get my head round the reality. The sweaty messy wonderful reality of the fact that he's really here with me.

Langly. Ringo. Here.

I've actually never done this with another guy before. Spent the whole night with him I mean, and woken up with him in the morning. My other relationships were . . . different. More superficial.

But Ringo is here, now. The reality is him lying here beside me, solid and warm and heavy, reminding me of what it felt like to have his weight on top of me last night, inside me, his cock inside me, his tongue in my mouth, his mouth *everywhere* on me, everything about him, everything he did, taking me to a place I'd never been before, driving me to such screaming shuddering exploding ecstasy that I never knew existed. He wanted me, I knew that, and I thought I *wanted* him, but what he did, what we did . . . so far beyond anything I ever experienced before, I feel like a blind man who has just woken up able to see.

So what can I see . . . my bedroom, looking the same as always in the first light of dawn, except that I don't usually leave boxers and pajama pants lying crumpled in the middle of the floor. And I can see that his head is on my arm, his face pressed into my shoulder, expression as innocent as a child's, peaceful in the aftermath of his complete release. At least I could give him that, last night.

And now, the morning after, we're lying together in my bed, tangled together, his limbs overlapping mine, still locked in each other's arms. Smell of sweat and sex and semen, dry mouthed and aching and hardly able to move.

And yes, he is drooling on my shoulder, but that doesn't matter because I can also feel every breath he exhales against my skin. And he's got his nose almost in my armpit and we must both smell pretty rank, but that doesn't seem to bother him either.

Something is bothering me, though. What happens next?

I've had time, over the last few days, to come to terms with the fact that he wanted me. Had wanted me for a long time. But now, in the cold light of day, what will he want now?

I've known him for ten, eleven years as a friend, colleague, room-mate. And for a long time I've been aware of his sexual preferences; but always kind of at a distance. He always kept that part of his life separate. We never met any of his partners, not that there were many. Or nothing that lasted.

So, I don't know what to expect from him. Am I just another one-nighter? He wanted me, yes, but now he's *had* me . . . and it's the morning after. Is he just going to shrug it off with a laugh? "Hey John, come on, you didn't think it was serious, didya?"

And if he says that, what do I do? In the course of one night my life has been totally turned around. I didn't know it could be like this, feel like this. I never knew I had it in me to respond like I did last night, totally forgetting all my usual reserve and inhibitions. Lust, need like that . . . I never understood before. But now . . . he's only got to snap his fingers and I'll come to him, wherever, whenever. To whatever he wants to do. I'm totally addicted to him.

I can only hope I was good enough for him. That he still wants me.

Because it's not just sex. Because I know now that I've fallen in love with him. Fell in love with him in the course of a night, from the minute I felt him inside me. I need him, want him like I've never wanted anyone else, even Susanne.

But the things we said to each other last night . . . in the heat of the moment, in the heat of desire and need or in the sleepy sated aftermath, you can say all sorts of things and mean them at the time, and then in the light of day reality imposes itself and you start to think about the practicalities. In all the time I've known him he's never committed to anyone. Why should he be any different with me?

He moves a little, restlessly, breathing deeper, sighing drowsily, his hand sliding across my stomach and he moves his head, his lips brushing across my chest, finding my nipple and closing over it. Warm and wet and lazy, his tongue circles it, lips suckling briefly, and immediately my heart is racing and I start to shiver all over. But he's still more than half asleep and soon slips back into unconsciousness again, head on my chest.

It's getting lighter. He sleeps late, usually, and god knows he should sleep long. So, before he wakes, I've got to get things straight in my head. Face facts, John, he probably won't want you, not for keeps. He's not the type. So you've got to be prepared for that.

Make the most of it then, John, cause this may be the only time. The only time you'll ever be able to lie like this with him, sated and peaceful and knowing complete happiness, even for a short while.

But, for now, I can just lie here and savour each moment until he wakes. Until he wakes.

8 am: LANGLY

So I'm just standing, leaning in the doorway and looking, looking at him. Fast asleep, sprawled naked on his back on the bed, that beautiful slim body open and vulnerable, he's never looked so hot and I'm getting hard again just from looking at him, and I don't know how long I've been just standing here, just looking.

I still can't believe this isn't a dream. Waking up this morning in the early light, realising I'm not in my own room, that I'm in *his* room, in his bed. I had my head on his shoulder, his warm flesh under my cheek, my face against his chest. We were wound round each other like a couple of puppies, so close I couldn't tell where I ended and he began.

He didn't wake, and I just lay there looking at him, loving him, still not really believing. Seeing his face, sleeping, so close for the first time in the light of day, I could see every separate hair on his face, every line at the corner of his eyes, every eyelash. Just looking at him, and thanking whatever gods may be that they let this happen.

I always sucked at relationships, even before we began the life we lead. Nothing ever lasted. I always managed to screw up. I know why, well enough. I never trusted anyone, least of all myself. Never let myself trust. Rejection was only ever one step away, so I made sure I never got close enough to be rejected.

But John; we were friends for so long, best friends, even before I knew I loved him, we had a friendship that was built on trust over so many years of shared difficulties and dangers and setbacks. We knew each other so well, we'd been there for each other, watching each other's backs in all kinds of dangers, seen each other exhausted, angry, depressed and discouraged, smashed and stoned or just scared shitless. Best friends, for sure. But I thought that was all it would ever be. Until last night. Until he turned to me. Showed me the real John, the one I always dreamed might be there.

He's always had this guard up, this armour, this barrier between him and the rest of the world. Even to me and Mel, his best friends. I used to wonder if I would ever get past it, if anyone ever would. But last night; I was inside that barrier, closer than a friend. Seeing the real John Byers for perhaps the first time. His lover, at last. But in all the years of aching and wanting him, I never imagined he was capable of the passion he showed me last night.

I guess I always thought I would be the one to take the lead. But . . my god, he blew me away. Gave himself to me completely, time and time again, holding nothing back. Giving everything he had. And demanding . . . demanding everything I had too. The outer John is the one the outside world sees, the reserved guy in the stiff suits, composed and calm and controlled, while all the time below the surface - nobody knows about the wild sensuality, the passion, the complete abandon, the tenderness and generosity that he's hidden all these years under that tight-assed suitboy exterior. No-one but me. We made love half the night, devouring each other, falling asleep at last spent in each other's arms. And now he belongs to me; we belong to each other.

I cross the room and stand by the bed, just looking down at him. Mine, and so beautiful . . . I told him so last night, and he just smiled like he didn't believe it. He's so shy, he doesn't believe anyone would think he was beautiful. It only makes me want him more. But he is beautiful to me. He takes my breath away just to look at him.

I kneel down by the bed. Reach out and gently brush his hair back from his forehead, trace a fingertip along his eyebrow, then down the line of beard on his jaw to his chin. Lean forward and kiss him gently, a feather-light kiss on the lips. Then up, to touch my lips to that little mole on his cheek that drove me nuts, I've so often longed to kiss it. Back to his mouth again, that full lower lip that's supposed to be the sign of a passionate nature. Well that's right enough.

He barely stirs, exhausted I guess after last night. I can't help a little smug grin. He has every right to be exhausted, and me too. It's been a while for me too, but we sure made up for it last night.

I carefully slide back into bed with him and settle against him, pulling him into my arms and the curve of my body. Mustn't sleep, don't want to sleep .. .

I surface a little while later, to find John propped on his elbow over me in much the same position I was in earlier. He's looking down at me with that quizzical expression I know so well, and suddenly I don't know what to say. He beats me to it.

"Hey, don't I know you from somewhere?"

So that's how he wants to handle it. Light, casual. Okay.

"I can remind you, if you've forgotten" and I reach out and run my finger down his cheek. He smiles, catches my hand in his and holds my fingers against his face. "Didya sleep?"

"Yeah, some. What about you?"

"Sure . . . and he draws back a little to look at me carefully. He's got that slightly worried look where his forehead wrinkles and his eyebrows go up in the middle. It's always made me want to kiss it away. "Ringo, about last night . . ."

Oh fuck, here it comes. I knew I should never have given in. He thinks it was a mistake. Look buddy, it was great and all, but it's not a good idea. .

I look away, feel myself tensing, withdrawing. It's starting again, just like it always has. And this time it's John, and it's the end of everything. Just let me get outta here . . .

His hand on my arm, warm, reassuring . . . don't be so fucking *nice* about it John, just come right out with it okay, quick and clean, that's the best way . .

His hand on my arm. Hesitant, a light touch. God, think what *he* must be feeling. Think about someone else for a change, Ringo. Make it easy for him.

"Yeah, look, John, about last night . . . if you don't wanna . . ." and my throat closes up. I can't say any more. Can't look at him. Can't face the kindness, the understanding in his eyes.

"Ringo, I just wanted to say . . . last night . . . "

I knew it. He doesn't want me. I screwed up again. I don't want to listen to any more.

". . . but I meant it, Ringo. It was serious for me. But . . . God . . . I mean, if you don't want to take this any further, that's okay. I can understand that. I mean, I guess I'm trying to say that this wasn't just a casual thing for me Ringo, and if don't feel the same way, well that's okay, I can live with that and . . ."

I don't let him get any further because that's when what he's saying starts to register and it's like an explosion inside my chest, and my reflex action is just to lunge for him, grab him by the shoulders and pin him down to the bed and silence his mouth with my own. I kiss him with desperate intensity, feeling him moan and quiver against me, and it's a long time before I let him go. Finally releasing him I gasp, my mouth only millimetres from his. "You talk too much, ya know?"

He grins. That wicked, exultant grin that is the trademark of the other John, the secret John that only I know. "Make me stop." he murmurs reaching his hands up into my hair and pulling me down for another long lingering kiss. My god, who'da thought he could kiss like this, I never want to stop kissing him, scratchy feel of his beard against my lips and the heat of his mouth, our tongues caressing, dissolving together, our whole bodies melting into each other as it goes on and on.

Some time later, I lay my head down on his chest and exhale a long shaky breath.

"I thought you were gonna say you'd changed your mind."

Just a little shake of his head, he breathes "Never", and we smile into each other's eyes. We don't need words any more; eye contact seems to communicate all we need. We occasionally reach out and touch each other, stroking, as if to reassure ourselves that the other is really there.

I press myself down, skin to skin with him, trying to get as much contact between our bodies as possible. I already want him again, so much it hurts. Arms tight around each other, we roll over till we're face to face on our sides, still kissing deeply. Hands stroking down each other's bodies, exploring, possessing each other, staking our claim on each other. I draw back a little so I can run my hand down his chest, down to his cock, grasping and stroking his early morning erection; he's as ready as I am and he does the same for me with growing confidence. His hand on me there . .. jeez, I shudder and nearly come right there and then but he slides his fingers down to the base, tightly clasping till I subside, groaning . . . god, John , you're so good . . . then our hands are caressing, stroking each other again into full hardness, pumping each others cocks, hips moving in a slow dance. His eyes never leave mine as we learn each other's responses. A slow squeeze here, gentle stroke *there* . . . do you like *this* . . . breath coming fast now, gasping into each other's faces as our arousal grows and grows and grows . . .

We come almost together, crying out with relief and joy as we come together to the brink and explode together in orgasm, bathing our bodies in semen, his and mine mingling together on our bodies. We clutch each other, hearts pounding, holding tight in relief and exultation.

I feel him gradually relax against me and realise he's sleeping again. That's okay; and I settle down again beside him so that I can watch his face.

I want to be the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes.

END

  
Archived: April 2001 


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